Niggles
by BitterKnitter
Summary: Bloody Psirens...


**Red Dwarf belongs to Grant Naylor, and not to me. Otherwise I might be eating grapefruit from Waitrose every morning, instead of Tescos own brand Hoops cereal.**

**This is the first fanfiction I've ever written for Red Dwarf, so I'd really appreciate some critique and a few comments! Thank you!**

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The time just seems to go by so slowly these years. At first the hours playing durex vollyball with Cat, followed by blowing said durex up on their heads so's to emulate the Coneheads would zip by in a flash, often until the time on Holly's clock would blink three a.m. Other ways of wasting the days would be spent torturing that git who slept on the bunk beneath him every night, or concocting new ways of breeding mould.

But now, something new had been bugging him. Niggling away at the frontal lobes of his brain, digging away into his cerubellum so silently and discreetly he hadn't even noticed it was there. But here it was; he had discovered it during a game of Creme Egg Ascot. Not only did his egg lose the race, the thought slapped him hard in the face like Lise Yates had done all those years ago.

Except this time, he did not ask Cat what he was doing. He knew the answer for THAT, anyway. He'd lost a tenner, his lighter pocket and Cat's purring proved that. But this question made him feel sick, and the fact he couldn't figure out the answer was making his forehead sweat nightly.

The Psirens had preyed on inner needs, wants and desires. Of course, Kochanski had been a part of it (along with the other beautiful creatures on screen) but something else had bothered him. Violence? Of course, he knew that. Scantily- clad gun-toting vixens fashing their cleavages teasingly at him? Well, that one is obvious, surely.

Momentarily he wished Holly was around. But of course, the computer-cum-alarm clock was still on Red Dwarf. At least with her around he'd be able to ask for the time. And Kryten was still on down-time, and he wasn't going to disturb him just to find out the time of night it was. Even if it was night, anyway. Wearily he hung his legs over the side of the bunk and groaned into the shadows, his dark legs hanging limply into the blackness.

"Lister...?"

Dave heard a rustle from underneath him. Ever since the hologram had recieved his hard-light drive, life in the cabin certainly had got more noiser and livelier. Sometimes he felt sorry for poor old inflatable Ingrid and her polythene pal, Rachel.

"I'm asleep, Rimmer," Lister groaned into his chest.

"Oh fine. Just wanted to know if you were ok, but I don't think I'll bother with asking you," The hologram huffed, and Dave heard his pillow rustle as his bunkmate turned onto his side to face the poster-strewn wall, away from his feet.

Hit suddenly by a wave of loneliness, Lister felt guilty for his rejection of Rimmer. Lifting his legs up and slowly lowering his body down, Rimmer felt the tickle of dreadlocks against the back of his neck. Uuurgh, he never realised how smelly those things were until he regained his sense of smell. He flinched away and lifted his body up on his elbow.

"I thought you were asleep," He remarked matter-of-factly.

"I woke up. Thought you might be, you know, lonely since you're awake," Dave blinked.

Sighing with exasperation, Rimmer rubbed the sleep from his eyes (The hard light drive was more realistic than he realised) and sat up.

"What's wrong, Lister?" He asked with annoyance. "Have a bad dream? Did the ship's supply of Bombay Alloo burst into flame?"

"No! Ain't that," Lister made a face. " I hate that stuff. If it were the Bhuna, now that'd be a different story,"

"So whats wrong then?" Arnold sniffed.

"It's stupid,"

"So's that game you played with the Cat... honestly, trying to whistle the theme tune to The Jetsons backwards whilst sucking ice cubes. You'd think you were neanderthals,"

"Don't be so stuck up Rimmer, you kept score!" Lister bit back. "You even challenged us to do Top Cat!"

"Nothing wrong with Top Cat," The hologram's "H" glinted slightly in the dim. "So tell me whats wrong otherwise I'll never get back to sleep,"

Lister gulped. "D'you think the human population will ever come back?"

"You what?"

"I mean, are we destined to become extinct now? Game over, goodnight vienna?"

Arnold mulled this over in his head, clicking his tongue as he went.

"Well, the only members- I mean member- is a male. Unless you become an expert on the subtle art of mitosis I'd say the human race is as dead as Gary Glitter's pop career,"

"Oh,"

Lister twiddled his thumbs together in thought.

"So... hm," He chewed this thought over.

"Can I go back to sleep now?" Arnold yawned, his drive's sleep simulator taking over.

"Yeah. Go back to sleep,"

Dave heard the bed below him creak and settle as his bunkmate drifted off to a deep slumber. Staring into the darkness, he wiped a stray tear away from his left eye.

"For smeg's sake, Dave, get a hold of yerself," His chest ached as he remembered Kochanski's grinning, dirtied face deliver the best news he'd ever heard, even if it was an illusion.

"Thats right Dave," She had said. "You're a father,"


End file.
